The Tale of How Lelia the Cunning Defeated the Bandit King (and a dragon)

On a cool, calm day, when the air felt good against the skin
and the clouds floated in front of the sun like giant, white balls of fluff,
Abby Foster, the Miller’s daughter, sat on a red and white blanket on a grassy
hill and listened as her mother told her stories. This was her favorite time of
day, when the family would pause in what they were doing and come out to the
hill in the meadow for a lunch of bread and meat, and maybe some butter and
jam. Sometimes, her father would go to market and bring back strawberries,
which was always a treat. Today she sat in her simple, pink dress and let her
white apron catch crumbs as they fell from the corners of her mouth.

“Tell me a story,” she asked her mother, who was busy
putting some jam on some bread. “Tell me a story about a brave knight.”

“Oh, there’s plenty of those,” her mother said with a smile.
Abby shook her head.

“I want a real story. One about a real knight that did
fantastic things.”

“Plenty of those, too.” Her mother said as she took a bite.
“What exactly are you in the mood for?”

“Are there girl knights? Can a girl be a knight?”

Her mother swallowed and then took a sip of water from a
small jug they had brought with them. “A girl can be anything she wants to be,
darling.”

“That’s what you say,” Abby said as she took the jug from
her mother and took a sip. The water felt cool as it tickled its way down her
throat. “But for real. Can a girl be a knight?”

Her father, who had been busy cutting some meat from a bone
with his small, sharp knife, smiled and said, “The greatest knight this land
has ever known is a girl. In fact, the three greatest heroes of our age happen
to be girls.”

“Really?” Abby asked, intrigued. She had read many
storybooks, scrolls, and parchments, but they were all the same. A brave, handsome
hero that would ride up to a castle and find a princess. He would slay
something large (that more often than not, breathed fire) and then whisk her
away from her tower. Abby never cared for those stories. As a miller, she
toiled hard and prided herself on her work, and she questioned the values of a
man that wanted a woman that just sat in a tower all day. What decent job
skills would someone like that possess? Swooning?

“Tell her the story, Mama.” Papa said as he popped a piece
of meat into his mouth and chewed. “You’re better at it than I am.”

“Oh, you.” Mama said with a smile. She looked to her
daughter and said, “Well, the thing about a story like this, is that it’s not
just one story. This story belongs to many people and started a long, long, time
ago. But to better appreciate it, I suppose I should start with something
interesting.”

“Like what?” Abby asked.

Her mother bit her lip and thought for a moment. “Well, how
about we start with the tale of Lelia the Cunning?”

Abby sat up, now very intrigued.

“Once upon a time…”

The Tale of How Lelia the Cunning Defeated the Bandit King
(and a dragon)

Once upon a time, there was a tower that stood far from the
edge of Westglen. It was in the Barrens, a cruel, desolate land that had no
trees, no water, and no life to speak of. One might question who would build a
tower there, or where they would even find the proper building materials, the
money for the transport of the labor, the food costs, and so on, but the tower
was so old that anyone who did know about it didn’t tend to focus much on
things like that. The tower simply was,
and that made it even more ominous.

While that alone was enough to force many a tale and legend
into being, it was what was rumored to be inside the tower that made people
greedy with desire. At the top of its winding stair, guarded by fierce,
unimaginable beasts and perils, was a small, dusty, tin lamp. It was said that
anyone who rubbed the lamp would summon forth a powerful jinn that would grant
three wishes. Or kill you. Honestly, the legend was a bit vague on this point.[1]

So many adventurers had journeyed for the lamp and died that
it had become something of a tradition in the small border town of Lockfoot to
hold an annual picnic and festival to honor those brave enough to venture out
into the wilderness and seek the fabled, and possibly cursed, lamp of the jinn.
The villagers, well-accustomed to brave and noble idiots that came ill-prepared
for the Barrens, would hold a lavish feast on the first day of the Spring Moon.
There would be music and laughter, games and fun. Many a prize would be one at
the festival booths, and many a maiden would swiftly and awkwardly be brought
to womanhood behind the bleachers of the jousting stands. It was a grand and
inebriated time for all, and the braver warriors, always strong, gallant, and
extremely armored, would revel in the praise. After all, each one of the
countless heroes that came through knew that they were the one that would rise above the odds and return
victorious.

This became a bit of a problem for the kingdom of Westglen.
The deluge of heroes that would move through the sleepy and often hung-over
village of Lockfoot had not escaped the attention of the king. Before long, a
royal proclamation was announced, which stated that any hero that was to
venture into the Barrens to retrieve the lamp had to pass a challenge worthy of
a hero. This cut back the number of applicants, but the citizens of Lockfoot
made the most of it, and would actively go out of their way to find quests,
challenges, contests, and perils befitting a brave and adventurous knight. In
fact, the business of perilous travel became so popular that many Hazardous
Tour Agencies had sprouted up throughout the quiet, little hamlet.

So, it came to pass that on a quiet Tuesday morning, a young
woman rode into Lockfoot. She was small, thin, and rode atop a slim, gray and
white spotted steed. Her long, blonde hair shone like the sun, and swished in
its ponytail as she rode past the inns, the apothecary, the visitor’s center,
and the town watch. She was dressed in a simple leather tunic and dark leather
pants. At her side was a short sword in a homemade scabbard, and on her belt,
amidst numerous bottles and belongings, was a sharp, silver dagger. She pulled
back on her reins in front of a quaint cottage that sported a small sign out
front. The sign read, Doris &
Deacon’s Deadly Destinations. It was known as one of the finer Hazardous
Tour Agencies, and came highly recommended. The young woman dismounted and tied
her steed to a post, and headed inside.

The agency was the front half of a home, and the young woman
glanced around at the paintings that covered the wall. She saw images of
dragons, ogres, litchis, and witches. She saw a small, lopsided desk with a
chair in front of it, which she sat in. She took a pamphlet from the desk and
was reading about the Basilisk fields when a small, round-shaped man with a
moustache far too large for his rosy face emerged from the back.

“Good morning, Lass,” the man greeted the young woman. She
nodded back and stood to shake his hand. It was solid, despite the fact that
the man’s skin had the texture of slightly undercooked bread. “Deacon McGuire,
at your service.”

“Good morning. I’ve come for a quest to prove myself worthy
of the king’s ordinance.”[2]

Deacon coughed and looked at the young woman. “Have you?
Well now, that I can do. But, pardon me for saying so, you’re, um..?”

Deacon tilted his hand back and forth. “Bit of all of that,
I suppose.”

The young woman sighed and crossed her arms in front of her
chest. “My name is Lelia Gallathorn. I studied as a warrior maiden under the
Sect of Snow, fought the bandits of Bloodwyrm Pass, defeated a Southern Troll,
and have done a shopping list of other great things before even setting foot in
this town. The only reason I am here, now, is because the king’s stupid law
about being a proper adventurer prohibits me from journeying into the Barrens
until I get rated by the constabulary here in Lockfoot, so I am here for a
quest that meets your standards.”

“And if I give you one, you plan to best it?”

Lelia chuffed. “I plan to kick its ass, if that’s what you’re
asking.”

Deacon laughed and smiled. Lelia swore that the man’s body
actually rippled with each chuckle. “Well now, never let it be said that Doris & Deacon’s Deadly Destinations
isn’t an equal opportunist! You want a quest, little lady, then a quest you
shall have! Um, do you have a preference?”

Lelia shrugged. “Not really. I mean, if I pick my
challenges, I’m just going to avoid the ones I find too hard, and then what
good would I be?”

Deacon grinned and took a large, leather-bound book out from
a drawer in his desk. “A fine answer, Miss Gallathorn. Now, let’s see what’s
available this month. Oh! Are you fond of rescuing damsels in distress?”

“Excuse me?”

Deacon turned his book around to show Lelia a painting of a
princess decked out in the pinkest, frilliest gown she had ever seen. She was
combing her hair while several bluebirds sat on a windowsill beside her. “This
is Princess Sophia. Rumor has it that she’s being kept locked away in a tower
by a gang of bandits. The bandits also have a dragon. The dragon is quite
large. Does this sound like something you’d be into?”

Lelia shrugged. “I guess. I mean, the whole damsel thing
doesn’t really do it for me, but a quest is a quest, and the dragon sounds like
fun. Now wait, is she under a curse or anything?”

Deacon shook his head. “No, the notes say she’s just stuck
up there. Been there six months or so. She’s the daughter of some lesser house
that couldn’t afford to pay off the bandit leader.”

Lelia nodded. “Okay, that sounds legitimate. So, is there a
reward associated with this one, or is this strictly for accolades?”

Deacon grinned. “There is a reward being offered by the
girl’s father. At least 100 gold coins to whomever can bring his little girl
safely home to her family. That bounty is payable directly though this office,
of course.”

“Of course,” Lelia said with a glance. “At a processor’s
fee, I’m sure.”

“Our rates are 30% per standard assignment. I hope that’s
not too much for you, Miss.”

Lelia shook her head. “It’s robbery, but I’ll take it.
That’s more than enough to buy some better gear and feed me and my horse for a
week. So, I’m guessing you have the directions to the tower?”

“That I do, that I do. Here,” he handed Lelia a
blood-stained map. Lelia examined it and then rolled it up. “Thank you for your
business, Deacon. I’ll be back in a few days. Um, do I need to pay you up front
for the map? I have some gold.”

“No need, dear. I don’t take payment up front. You go, have
your little quest, and I’m sure you’ll be back.” Deacon said with a smile.
“Happy hunting!” [3]

Lelia looked at Deacon for a moment and then nodded her
thanks. She headed out to her steed (she was a three year old horse named
Whistle Wind, and Lelia would sometimes make up songs about her name when she
brushed her hair, but if anyone heard them, she would punch them in the face),
mounted her and rode out of town down a well-worn path. Deacon watched her go
from his doorway with a grin.

“Happy hunting, Miss.” Deacon said in a tone that would have
made Lelia pause, had she still been close enough to hear it.

The map was extremely wrinkled, but showed a clear enough
path. Driftwood forest was large, and connected to several others in the
kingdom, but her destination was a day’s ride at most. The trail looked easy
enough, and bypassed many of the region’s known obstacles. Lelia examined the
map closely and noted that her route had been highlighted ahead of time in red.

“How very helpful,” she said under her breath. Overhead, a
bird cawed in the morning air. Lelia glanced at it, and frowned. She then
looked at how much gold she had on her person, and came to a decision.

Lockfoot, while a small town, enjoyed a relatively high
level of safety. With the constant stream of heroes that moved through the
sleepy hamlet, only the most foolish bandit would try to rob someone. After
all, that someone might turn out to be a legendary hero, or at the very least,
a well-armed idiot. Therefore, the shops and merchants stationed in Lockfoot
offered a wide and varied array of goods. This did not go unnoticed by Lelia as
she visited shop after shop.

An hour later, she had collected the items she felt she
would need for this particular quest. Based on what she knew of the surrounding
woods, the perils that were outlined, both in in story and on the map, and what
her own common sense told her, she was as prepared as she would ever be.

Once she was safely outside of town, Lelia stopped on a
hillside and took out her new purchases to take stock of her inventory. Her
belongings included:


One short sword, forged of dwarven steel (Not as
light or sharp as an elf sword, but stronger and more durable.)


One silver dagger, given to her by one of her
fencing masters.


One rabbit, skinned and salted.


Five red potatoes.


Some blackberries.


Some garnish.


One ceramic plate.


A pink, lacy dress with a plunging neckline.


Some rope.


Five small, leather bags.


Black powder.


One (minorly) cursed gem.


Some raw meat in a leather pouch.


A simple bow.


Six arrows.


A lock pick set (standard traveler’s edition).


A flint set.


Some apples for Whistle Wind.

Lelia nodded to herself, content that she had everything she
should need. Carefully, she packed up her belongings.

The trees rustled with the sunlit breezes, and the air
smelled of flowers. It was about the safest-looking path Lelia had ever seen.
As soon as she was far enough down the trail that she was sure no one could see
her from the town, she came to a stop. Before her was a side trail not marked
on the map, but Lelia was familiar enough with these woods to know that this
path (if the well-worn dirt was any indication) would most likely take her to
Black Blood Falls, past the home of the witch Hester, and then to a connecting
path that should bring her within a few miles of her destination. That route,
clearly not marked on the map and possibly far more perilous, was the one she
turned down without hesitation.

Now, most adventurers, when faced with additional tasks,
usually head in the opposite direction. Only a great fool would put themselves
in more danger than what had been planned, and Lelia was not a fool by any
stretch of the imagination. Still, she headed down the trail of known perils,
confident in her choice.

Several hours later, she came to a pretty clearing that
ended in a bridge that crossed a small, bubbling waterfall. Black Blood falls
was a slightly exaggerated name, but
no one ever drew in tourists with a title like Quaint Bubbling Pixie Falls. The
bridge was wide enough for a horse and cart, and Lelia came to a stop a good
distance from its entrance. She dismounted and tied her horse to a tree that was
at the edge of the clearing. She then set about gathering sticks and twigs and
put them in a pile beside the road.

A few minutes into this, she heard the inhuman roar of a
great beast. “Who dares?” A great voice bellowed. “Who dares to cross my
bridge?”

Lelia continued to calmly gather sticks and twigs and put
them in a pile. Behind her, a great, hairy, and (aside from a tiny loincloth
that seemed to be there more for show than anything else) mostly-naked troll
emerged from under the bridge. He stood eight feet tall, and when he reared
back and held his malformed club above his head, he blotted out the sun. “No
one, be they man or woman, may cross my bridge without first paying the toll,
and a hefty toll it is! Now! Who dares to cross my bridge?”[4]

The troll paused, slightly confused by this answer.
“Nonsense! There is no way across Black Blood Falls for 50 miles in either direction!
You have no choice but to cross here! And that means a toll!”

Lelia laughed to herself. “Would that be a troll toll?
Seriously, I’m just parking right here, if you don’t mind. Is there a toll for
that?”

The troll scratched his head, some of his pre-prepared rage
abating. “Well, no, but…”

“Then there’s no need to get all bent out of shape, is
there?”

The troll slumped a bit and watched the young woman. Lelia
reached into her belt and took out a flint. Then, she drew her dagger and
started striking the flint to make sparks. After several strokes, a tiny trail
of smoke started to waft up from the center of the mound she had built. Lelia
gently blew on it, and before long, she had a small fire going.

The troll watched all this until a knight rode out of the
woods. He was covered head to toe in shiny armor, and sat tall on the back of
his black steed. “Ho there!” The knight cried. “Foul beast! It’s bad enough
that you would attack travelers on this bridge, but to keep a bosomy slave to
do your cooking? That is unforgivable!”

Lelia looked up from her campfire. “Excuse me? What did you
just call me?”[5]

The troll roared and lifted its club, happy to have a
familiar scenario to deal with. “Come, rider! Pay my toll of blood and glory!”

“The glory shall be mine, but the blood shall be yours!” The
rider called back. Lelia rolled her eyes and set up a long stick above the
fire. Behind her, she heard the tell-tale sounds of combat. There were loud
clangs, a slam that shook the earth, and the gargled cry of a horse. Some foul
words floated on the wind, followed by the sound of metal shattering. Lelia
heard a blood-curdling scream, and then nothing.[6]

As she went to a pack on the side of her horse, she again
heard the voice of the troll. “What are you doing?”

Lelia took out a skinned, dead rabbit that she had stored in
her sack. She put it on the stick over the fire. Then, she took out a small,
brown blanket from her satchel and spread it not too far from her fire. “Well,
since you asked, I am making myself a lunch. I have some rabbit, some beans in
my satchel, and some fresh berries that I picked on the trail this morning. I
am going to cook my food, eat it, and then see what happens next.”

“Is that a challenge?” The troll roared. Lelia shot him a
glare.

“How is making food a challenge? Look, I’m hungry, so I’m
making a lunch. That’s it.”

Lelia tended her rabbit. Behind her, the troll rumbled,
“Really?”

Lelia nodded without turning around. “Really.”

“You’re not going to fight me?”

“Nope.”

There was another pause.

“Not even a little?”

Lelia shrugged. “Really, what’s the point? You’re huge. You
just took that last knight apart like he was made of paper. And you ate his
horse. I heard you back there. You actually ate
his horse. I have a rule about directly engaging things that are large
enough to eat a horse. That rule is not to.[7] So, I’m making myself a lunch and enjoying this day.”

Lelia turned the rabbit on its stick. The meat simmered and
browned over the fire. She heard movement behind her. “Um, that smells good.”

Lelia nodded again. “Oh yeah. Some rabbit, some herbs. I
also have some potatoes and some berries for garnish.” She took out some
potatoes from her sack and put them in a tin, which she then set in the fire.

“Garnish?”

Lelia glanced back at the troll, who was looking confused.

“It’s a thing you put on food to make it taste better.”

“I knew that,” the troll said quickly.

The troll kept watching Lelia as she cooked her rabbit, and
was waiting for the young woman to bolt for the bridge, or try to distract him,
but she never did. Instead, she finished cooking her rabbit, fished out her
potatoes with a stick, and made up an oversized plate of delicious-smelling
food.

Lelia was about to dig in, when she noticed the troll
watching her. “Yes?” she asked innocently. She popped a piece of rabbit in her
mouth and slowly chewed.

“That smells good.”

Lelia took another bit. “It is good. Really good.”

There was a pause.

“That’s a really pretty plate, too.”

Lelia nodded. “It is pretty. Very pretty. It’s ceramic.”

“Ceramic. Huh.” The troll nodded, clearly confused and
intrigued.[8]

“If you give me the food, you can cross my bridge.”

Lelia smiled. “Tell you what,” she said. “If you let me
cross, and promise not to give me any trouble in the future, I promise to bring
something good to eat with me any time I have to use your bridge. Sound good?”

The troll nodded as he drooled. “Deal. Now, give me the
food. And the plate. It’s ceramic.”[9]

Smiling, Lelia handed over her plate and unhitched her
horse. “Thanks!”

The troll nodded as Lelia proceeded to calmly ride across.
Behind her, she heard the sound of a galloping horse. “Ho there!” A voice
called out. “Let me pass, fiend!”

Lelia kept riding, as the sound of battle and blood-curdling
screams of terror filled the air behind her.

Before long, she came to a fork in the road. The path she
crossed was the one that she had been on earlier, but this was considerably
father up the way. She stopped, dismounted, and then took out some rope from a
satchel. It wasn’t much, but it was long enough for her to string between two
trees along the path. She strung it at eye level, and gave it a pluck to test
it tautness. The rope twanged in response. Satisfied, she again mounted her
horse and rode on.

As night fell, the forest ended abruptly at the edge of a
rolling meadow. In the distance, Lelia could see a bonfire before a massive,
black castle. She considered the sight, and the amount of singing she could
hear, and the beer she could smell, even from here. She considered how many
bandits it would take to generate that much ruckus, and nodded to herself.

“About what I thought. Okay.” Lelia had been expecting this
much trouble, and possibly more. She took out the pretty, pink dress and
quickly changed. As an adventurer, Lelia was admittedly not used to wearing
finery. True, she thought it was pretty enough, but her mobility was cramped,
and her bosom was far more exposed than she was used to.[10]
While this led to some uncomfortable readjusting, she convinced herself that
this was in the name of Questing, and therefore could be excused by her
fiercely independent conscience as an act of professionalism.[11]

Once she was finished with the dress, she took the black
powder she had bought in town and carefully filled the bags that she had
brought with her. After tying them together, she rode Whistle Wind as close to
the party as she dared before dismounting. Then, with a quick self-check of her
appearance and some last-minute primping (along with a vow to burn the dress
when she was done with it), she put on a big smile and proceeded towards the
bandits, leaving her horse, packs, and weapons behind her.

The bandits were busy singing about the loose morals of a
woman that lived in the city of Nantucket when Lelia approached. There were
about a dozen or so, all sorely in need of a bath and a shave. Their collective
smell reminded Lelia of cow dung, burning wax, salt, and spoiled food. Their
singing was out of tune, and their movements were clearly lubricated by the
golden beer they drank with reckless abandon. She stood quietly and waited as
one by one, the bandits noticed her and stopped singing.

“Hey,” one said in a confused voice, “what’s a girl doing
here?”

“She smells good. Is that, is that soap?” Another asked.

“You know what soap smells like?” A third asked.

“I have an idea. She’s got pretty hair.”

A chorus of agreements echoed in response.

“Well now!” A loud, burly voice boomed. Lelia looked towards
the voice and saw a man with an enormous gut, christened by a long, wild, curly
black beard. He was dressed in a faded, red shirt and his hands were holding
the sides of his pants. Lelia couldn’t tell if they were resting there, or were
necessary to keep his leggings from collapsing in protest to the ground. “What
brings such a fine young woman as yourself to Bruno, the Bandit King’s
bonfire?”[12]

‘Lord, save me from
bad spells and stupid bandits,’ Lelia thought to herself. “Hi there,” she
said in an overly-sweet voice. “My name’s Lelia. I was sent from town with some
fresh party supplies.”

The bandits responded with a pleasant murmur. Bruno laughed,
which made his body ripple like the broken surface of a fatty pond. “And what
supplies would those be, little miss? Or, would you be one of them?”

Lelia grinned. “I brought supplies, and I brought a surprise.” The pirates cheered as Lelia winked at
Bruno. Bruno flashed a grin that featured entirely too many teeth.[13]
Lelia smiled back, and took out the bags of black powder. “Here are the
supplies,” she said as she tossed them in the fire. She then quickly ran to
Bruno, grabbed him, and spun him so that he acted as a makeshift bandit shield.
“And here is the surprise!”

The fire erupted with a loud, violent explosion. All the
bandits went flying, many of them bursting into flame as the explosion came
into contact with their alcohol-soaked clothing. The scene was pure chaos, as
people were either lying motionless on the ground, running around on fire, or
collapsing all around her. Lelia looked up at Bruno, who was looking straight
ahead with a vacant, twitching expression. She stepped back as the Bandit King
fell forward and crashed into the ground in a heap of smoke and lard.[14]
She then rolled him over (this was no small task), and searched him. She found
a great iron key, a whistle, and a rolled-up note. She looked around and saw
what near a small group of tents one that was larger than the others.

Not wanting to waste time, but genuinely curious at this
point, Lelia went to explore. She saw a great table with maps, scrolls, and a
dagger that had been dramatically thrust into a random point on the table, no
doubt during a heated exchange. She saw chests of gold (something she would
have to remember for later) and a large, yellowed cot, but the one thing she was expecting to see was absent. With a
shrug, Lelia leaded back out to the scene of smoking carnage by the fire.

Lelia looked around to confirm that the bandits had been
properly dealt with, and then gave a loud whistle. A moment later, Whistle Wind
came prancing up. She rubbed his nose and fished an apple out of her satchel.
“Good girl,” she cooed as she rubbed the horse’s nose. While she didn’t like
riding in a dress, she liked the idea of changing around bandits (albeit passed
out, dead, or burning bandits) even less. Lelia (carefully) climbed back on her
horse and proceeded towards the closed gates of the castle.

There was no moat. It looked like the builders had started
one along the north side of the castle, but then gave up. Lelia wondered if
this was due to budgetary concerns, or if the presence of a dragon had anything
to do with it. She examined the gates, which looked thoroughly sealed, and then
examined the area around the gates. She noticed what looked like a great, stone
bird at one side of the gate, and rode towards that. She looked at the statue,
and then looked at the whistle she had taken from Bruno, the Bandit King. With
a shrug, she gave it a blow. A loud, long note sang from the whistle, and in
response, the gate slowly started to clank upward.

Lelia rode carefully into the courtyard. There, in the
center of a large, scotched patch of earth, was a small, red dragon, chained to
a great, blackened stone. The beast was glaring at Lelia and spouting small
streams of fire as it pawed at the ground, its red wings fluttering at its
side. Around it were some rusted armor remnants, blackened with soot and completely
empty.

Now, a thing about dragons. There is no such thing as a
“small” dragon. Baby dragons start off about as big as a horse.[15] Even sea dragons, which are born only in the great, black trenches of the
deepest oceans, are at least as big as a decent-sized shark. Full-grown dragons
can be upwards of seven stories tall, and grand black dragons have been known
to tower above castle walls, their wings as wide as a small hamlet. In other
words, even though this was a “small” dragon, it still towered over Lelia at a
good 20 feet tall. In fact, to Lelia, there was nothing small at all about the
young, magical beast.[16]

Lelia slowly dismounted a good distance from the dragon and
approached the ring of scorched earth with caution. She took out the bag of raw
meat she had been carrying and tucked the (minorly) cursed gem she had purchased
inside it. She was of course careful not to touch the stone with her bare
hands, and used the bag the stone was in to handle it. Lord knew what would
happen if she came into contact with it, after all. After securing it in the
meat, she spoke in soft tones to the dragon. “Hey there. Hi. It’s okay,
sweetie. It’s okay. Here!” She held up the bag of meat. “I brought you
something! Something yummy! Do you want something yummy? Do you?” She dangled
the bag in front of her.

Now, another thing about dragons. They hate people. They
really do. People are the natural enemy of dragons, what with all their
questing, fighting, and slaying. In fact, the people epidemic is the primary
issue of concern when dragons gather and converse. Granted, it sounds to you
and me like growling and roaring, but in dragonese, it translates to something
similar to what you might hear when people talk about their homes being overrun
with termites.

While humans are seen as a problem, they are also seen as a
solvable problem. Most dragons agree that humans tend to taste better than almost
any other food group, even cow. And that’s really saying something, because no
creature in any of the realms can barbeque a cow like a dragon. Humans are seen
as a delicious annoyance, and for some, inexplicable reason, there was no
tastier variety of human than the princess-type human. And here was a girl in
princess-type clothing, smiling and offering a dragon a snack. While the young
red dragon might have been able to tell the difference if he bothered to look
closely, it was generally assumed by most dragons that if a young girl was
nearby in a pretty dress and happened to smell nice, then that pretty much
narrowed it down to princess, maiden, virgin sacrifice, or a lonely craftman’s
daughter. All of which fell into the ‘delectable’ category for a dragon.

So when Lelia started cooing to the dragon, and shaking a
bag that smelled of yummy raw meat, the sight of her dressed as a princess
pushed the poor beast over the edge. If it could have rolled over in
anticipation of the tasty treat it believed it was getting, Lelia was pretty
sure the great beast would have. Twice.[17]

With a heave, Lelia tossed the bag of meat to the dragon,
who leapt (as much as his chain would let him) and caught the bag in its
tooth-lined maw. It swallowed the bag in one swift gulp, and then looked
expectantly to Lelia for more. Lelia stood and waited. About thirty seconds
later, the dragon glowed with a fine, purple light and promptly passed out.
Lelia waited until she was sure the beast was sleeping before cautiously
approaching and examining the great monster’s iron collar. The metal band had
dug into the flesh of the dragon, and had left deep, crimson lines in its neck
scales. Lelia took out Bruno the Bandit King’s key and tried it on the collar
of the dragon. It unlatched with a clank and fell to the ground with a dusty
thud. The dragon itched at its neck with its back leg, but remained asleep.
Lelia suspected that the (minorly) cursed gem would be enough to keep it
sedated for another few minutes, which would be more than enough time to do
what she needed to do.

Lelia went to her horse and took her sword and dagger out,
along with her leather tunic and pants. She then headed to the tallest tower in
the courtyard (tradition dictated that this was her destination) and made her way
up the winding, stone staircase. She was largely unconcerned with booby traps
or skeleton warriors, as most people didn’t seem to bother with security beyond
a dragon. After all, it was a dragon, for crying out loud. If that wasn’t
enough, some undead swordsmen would hardly
be a deterrent.

Lelia found herself outside a heavy wooden door. She
considered if she should kick it in, or maybe try out her lock pick set, but
after a rather loud knock, the door swung open to reveal a maiden in a light
blue dress sitting at a spinning wheel. Her beautiful, platinum hair was done
in a braid and trailed down her back, and she was humming as she worked by the
light of a dozen candles.[18]
She looked up in surprise at Lelia’s entrance, and then frowned.

“Hi,” Lelia said with a wave. “I’m guessing you’re Princess
Sophia.”

“Um, beg your pardon,
but why are you here? Are you to join me up here?”

“I’m not a princess. Um, can I use your lavatory?” Lelia
looked around the small, round room and saw a little door off to the side.
“Thanks,” she said without waiting for a reply. A few minutes later, she
emerged dressed in her tunic and pants, her pretty, lacey dress rolled into a
neat, little ball under her arms. “I was scared that I would end up ripping
this thing. Now, I can at least get my money back.”

Princess Sophia considered the young woman before her.
“You’re not a princess?” She asked.

Lelia shrugged. “Well, it would be pretty weird to call me
Sir, now wouldn’t it? So yes, Madam. It’s a respectable title.”

“I suppose,” Said Princess Sophia, “but I have never heard
of a princess being rescued by a woman, even in the most socially progressive
tales.”

“Well then, you need to be reading better stories. Look, I’m
not here for your hand or any of that. I’m just here to bring you back to the
village of Lockfoot, collect a reward, get my certifications in order and
continue on my quest, so if you don’t mind?”

Princess Sophia looked around her prison of a suite. Lelia
looked, too. She wandered Sophia's room, and made sure to open the windows as she
did. The room was flooded with moonlight, and Lelia got a slightly better look
around. There was a beautiful, four post bed, a bird cage, a writing table,
several bookshelves, a lute, and a pretty, pink fur carpet.

“Someone slew a pink bear for your rug?”

Princess Sophia nodded with a large smile. “I know! I was
amazed when I saw it! I’ve heard tales that they are the fiercest of all
woodland creatures.”

Lelia nodded in agreement. “They’re a handful, that’s for
sure, but they’re not the worst. Try facing a unicorn, or a blue deer, or, Gods
help you, a Wonder Moose.”[19]
Lelia shuddered. “Now, get your stuff. It’s a day’s ride back, and I’ve been
more than lucky. That tends to run out, if you’re not careful.”

Princess Sophia nodded and stepped forward. “I am ready.
There is nothing here that I care to keep.”

Lelia smiled. “Great. Let’s go, your Majesty.” With that,
Lelia turned and headed back down the winding stairs, although a little slower
than before. Apparently, going down a winding stair in a layered dress is far
harder than going up. “Seriously, you couldn’t have changed before we left?”

“This is my only dress,” Princess Sophia said as she
carefully took each step. “I have been given food and water, but not clothing.”

Lelia sighed. “Just making small talk. You princesses are
sometimes a little morbidly attached to those frilly gowns.”

Princess Sophia shrugged. “You ever try sleeping in a
corset? No human has. I would imagine that it would be considered a form of
torture.”[20]

They made their way to the courtyard, which was now
deserted. Lelia looked around, but it looked like the dragon had awoken and
flown away, happy to be free of its bonds. “How did you best the dragon?”
Princess Sophia asked as she scanned the yard.

“Poisoned him with a (minorly) cursed gem. It put a sleeping
enchantment on people that could last for a full evening, so I figured I would
get an hour out of a dragon.”

“That was awfully risky, wasn’t it?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

The Princess had little to say to that. “I’m just very
impressed. I was trapped in this tower by an awful witch, and was never let
out. The dragon saw to that. Since my imprisonment, I’ve never been beyond my
tower. Truly, this is a great day.”

“Truly,” Lelia said as they ventured out of the castle. They
left through the still-raised iron gate and found Whistle Wind, who had
wandered back out to the fire and was rooting through some tall grass for some
food. Lelia whistled, and the loyal steed raced to her side. “Come on,
Princess. Hop on, before we have company.”

Princess Sophia looked around. “What company? You defeated
the bandits. How did you defeat the bandits?”

“With a pretty dress. Bandits always shut down when they see
a beautiful girl in a pretty dress.”[21]

Princess Sophia nodded. “I suppose so. I’m just impressed
that you took down Bruno, the Bandit King. Tell me, did you challenge him to
single-combat?”

“No, not exactly. I, um, threw a bomb in his fire and then
used him as a shield.”

“And what about his men?”

Lelia gestured to the still-smoking bodies on the ground.
“They went boom. Actually, it worked a lot better than I had thought. I was
planning on the blast getting three or four, but they were so soaked in booze
that the whole camp went up. Couldn’t have worked out better, actually.”

Lelia mounted her horse and then helped Princess Sophia on behind
her.

“And how did you ever best his hired ninjas?”

Lelia paused. “His what, now?”

There was a whoosh of air, and out of pure instinct, Lelia
drew her dagger and brought it to the level of her eye. The silver blade
clanged as it stopped a throwing star in mid-air and bounced it off, into the
night. From around the two women, four shapes appeared. They were dressed in
brown body suits, complete with hoods and masks to hide their faces. They were
each armed with short swords, and were slowly circling Lelia and Princess
Sophia.

“Ninjas. He had ninjas.” Lelia sighed to herself.

“We wondered,” one of the ninjas said, “when you didn’t
appear on the road, what you had done. You bested the Troll?”

Lelia nodded and gripped her reins. “Yeah, you could say
that. Sorry to disappoint you, gentlemen.”

“We waited for hours!” Another ninja called out. “Do you
know how many cramps you get in your legs when you’re crouched in a tree for
hours?"[22]

“Not my problem. Look, your leader was taken down and
there’s a rather large chest of gold in that big tent over there, so why don’t
you just take it and consider it payment for services rendered.”

Lelia looked around. The ninjas, whether they were decent at
what they were doing or not, had them outnumbered. While the thought of a good
fight was always something that excited Lelia, it was dark, she was
outnumbered, and she had Princess Sophia to consider. All it would take is for
one of these losers to sneak up behind her with a knife, and then there would
be a tense stand-off, followed by a surrender, followed by a capture and
death-trap, followed by a narrow escape amidst impossible odds, and then a
rescue of the Princess Sophia (again), a chase, and then the eventual defeat of
the ninjas. While that formula did make for an exciting time, Lelia was getting
tired, and she really wasn’t in the mood to be tied up.

“Get her!” The lead ninja shouted. Lelia gave Whistle Wind a
kick, and they shot down the road like lightning. Behind them, Lelia heard the
loud scramble of panic and confusion as the ninjas mounted their horses and
took off after them. In the back of her mind, Lelia noted that these bandits
were awfully loud for “ninjas,” but she let it slide. Professionals or not,
they were a gang that had been paid to do her harm, and she wasn’t in the mood
to test their proficiency.

“Keep your head down!” Lelia yelled at Princess Sophia.
Lelia ducked as close to Whistle Wind as possible as they galloped down the
forest path. She reached behind her, grabbed Princess Sophia’s collar, and
yanked down. With a surprised squawk, Princess Sophia fell forward onto Lelia’s
back and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. Lelia stayed like that for
about a minute, and then sat up.

“It’s okay now, you can sit up.” Princess Sophia
straightened up in her seat and tried to remain dignified.

“What was the meaning of that? You might have ruined my
dress!”

“If I hadn’t,” lelia said as they rode on, “I might have
ruined your neck.”

Lelia slowed to a stop and guided Whistle Wind off to the
side of the path. Both women listened as they heard the sound of swiftly
approaching horses, spurred on by the sound of leather slapping hides and the
obligatory “Yah!” A few seconds later, they heard a series of stiff, low-bass
strums, much like someone bumping the strings of a lute, followed by a series
of strangled screams and the sound of bodies crashing to the ground. The sound
of rushing horses slowed, and then trailed off. Then, the only sound from down
the path was that of low moaning, mixed with the occasional sob.

“Okay, we’re good,” Lelia said as she gently urged Whistle
Wind down the path.

It was late, and while Lelia wanted to rest, she knew better
than to stop in a forest. While the main road she was on was safer than the
side path she had travelled earlier (at least, now that the ninjas had been
dealt with), she still hesitated at the thought of sleeping in a forest,
period. She had known too many travelers who had fallen asleep, only to wake up
robbed, enchanted, cursed, eaten, or to find some other, horrible fate had
befallen them, and that was if they woke up at all. Besides, town was only a
couple hours away via the path on the map. Lelia sucked it up and pushed on.
There was a bed at the local Inn with her name on it, and she fully intended to
sleep there.

By the time they reached Lockfoot, it was near midnight, and
the town watch was in full-swing. They stopped the tired Lelia and sleeping
Princess Sophia at the town limits and checked to make sure that the two women
were human and not Demon Riders, or anything else that might try to get into
the town under the cover of darkness.[23]
Once they were convinced that the women were women and not necessarily evil,
the town watch permitted them entry. Lelia promptly rode down the street, past Doris & Deacon’s Deadly Destinations, and
straight to the head office of the town watch. Lelia whistled for the sleepy
guard outside to wake up and come over, as the Princess Sophia slowly blinked
awake.

“Are we here? Are we safe?” Princess Sophia asked with a
yawn.

“Here you go,” Lelia said to the guard. She shifted her
weight in her saddle, which caused the Princess Sophia to slip off and fall to
the ground in a flailing, surprised heap.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Princess Sophia screamed as
the guardsman helped her to her feet.

“Guard, please arrest the Princess Sophia for robbery,
extortion, and for the organized murder of however many heroes that Doris & Deacon’s Deadly Destinations
have sent to her little bandit camp. On that note, you might want to arrest
Deacon McGuire for being in on the scheme.”

“See, I was tipped off by the bird,” Lelia said. “I thought
it was weird to see a messenger bird so early in the morning, but then I looked
at the very bright, very clear, and very blood-stained map that Mr. McGuire
provided me and I realized that it was clearly a trap. I mean, seriously. The
castle is what, two hours from here? You’re telling me that no one has bothered
to save this girl, and she’s been there for weeks? Obviously, something was up.
So, I considered the route and what I knew about the forest, and I prepared
myself accordingly.

“The scam was simple enough. Deacon sends a warning to the
Princess here, who then would tell her subordinate Bruno to dispatch his men
along the forest path. The men would subdue any travelers who didn’t take the
Troll Road, drag them back to the camp, loot them, and then feed them to her
pet dragon.”

“Lies!” The Princess Sophia screamed. “You have no proof of
this! I was a captive of an evil witch! I am royalty! I am..!”

“You are from a lesser house that couldn’t afford or didn’t
care enough to pay a ransom for your imprisonment. And tell me, Princess, if
you were ‘imprisoned’ in that tower, then how come your door was unlocked? How
come you knew all about Bruno and his gang, when you confessed that it was a
witch and not them who put you in that tower? How come you had that messenger
bird sitting on a perch? In fact, it was you who brought those ninjas, wasn’t
it? When you opened the windows of your tower, the bird got out, and you took
your sweet time getting down those stairs in that dress. That was just enough
time for those idiot ninjas to get out of their trees and show up to try to
ruin my night. I don’t blame them, they did say they had to serve their
employer, which was odd, considering the guy who was supposed to be their employer was cooked in an explosion.”

The guardsman looked from Lelia to the Princess Sophia, who
was shaking with rage. “If what you say is true, then why would I have let you
take me back here? Why not kill you on the road and be done with it?”

Lelia grinned. “Ah, because you know as well as I do that a
forest is not the place to be caught alone at night. I was your protection.
After all, I did defeat all your challenges. You knew you were probably safe to
let me think I had saved you, head back to town, chastise Deacon, and then
round up a new bandit gang for your scheme.”

Princess Sophia suddenly calmed down and laughed to herself.
She looked at Lelia with a strange smile that did not reach her eyes. “Clever
girl. Clever, little girl. You think this makes you special? You think you can
just hand me off like a common criminal? I am not just some common,
lesser-house princess!”

Princess Sophia raised her arm and extended her hand. A
bright, green flame erupted from it and encircled her,[24]
causing the guard to step back. The townspeople who were still awake (most of
which had been busy drinking at the local pubs) came out into the street to see
what the commotion was about.

“I am the Dread Witch! I am the Cry of the Night! You think
you can just toss me in some common cell? You think that someone who can
imprison a dragon can be defeated by a girl with a pig-sticker?”

Lelia dismounted and stepped back. Whistle Wind and the
guardsman followed, giving the Witch Princess Sophia some room to levitate as
she erupted with a plume of magical, green fire. “I have studied the dark craft
like no other! No sword can slay me! No riddle can undo my powers!”

Lelia glanced up. “Um, Sophia?”

“I have travelled the Barrens and solved the riddle of the
Demon Lords! I have tasted the Blood of the Seven! I have seen through the Eye of
Perseus!”[25]

Lelia pointed and cleared her throat. “Sophia? Princess?”

“SILENCE!” She was really getting going by this point. Her
eyes were glowing a fierce green, and her platinum hair was whipping around her
head in a whirlwind of magical fire and wind. She was busy charging a spell in
her hands, and the air around her crackled with fire and electricity. Her voice
started to echo and reverberate as she spoke in ancient tongues, and she raised
her hands over her head. A huge, bright ball of swirling energy was forming
above her as she focused her attention on Lelia.

“And now, you die!”

Lelia didn’t flinch or take cover in any way. She really
didn’t see a point. The moment that the Witch Princess Sophia screamed out “And
now, you die!” She was crushed by the weight of an angry red dragon that had
been swooping down towards her from a decent altitude. Lelia noticed it when
the dragon’s form started to block out the moon. The dragon stamped out the
green fire like it was a cigar butt, and when the Trampled Witch Princess
Sophia started to scream from underneath the dragon’s talons, the great beast
bent down and took a well-deserved bite of its favorite food, Princess. Lelia
flinched as the dragon enjoyed its meal. The townsfolk, a bit too intoxicated
to understand the gravity and horror of the act they were witnessing, cheered
the beast on. With a mighty, flame-filled burp, the beast settled back, looked
at Lelia for a moment, and then took off into the night sky with a furious
beating of wings.

“Well,” Lelia said (mostly to herself), “That was extremely
convenient.”

“What do you mean I can’t be certified?”

Lelia was standing in the office of the Town Watch and using
what many would not consider an inside voice. The head of the local
constabulary, Captain Wilkinson, was hunched over his desk and focused on a
mountain of paperwork. He gave a long sigh that is generally mastered by city
officials and looked at the young, angry woman before him.

“Look, Ms. Gallhorn, I…”

“Gallathorn.”

“Whatever.” Captain Wilkinson pushed his glasses back to
their proper position atop his rather large, red nose. “While I recognize the
work that you’ve done, your contract was with Doris & Deacon’s Deadly Destinations, and with Mr. McGuire’s
arrest and the pending investigation of their agency, I’m afraid that the crown
has revoked their QCS.”[26]

“But I did the quest! I defeated a troll, a bandit camp, a
dragon, saved a princess, I did everything I was supposed to! Can’t you just
certify me for that and let me be on my way?”

“The crown doesn’t allow for municipalities to provide
certification. It was worked into the law last year. Remember that whole
privatization of serf services bill thing? Well, that was a part of it. Only a
licensed agency can provide you with your papers, and your contract is not
through a licensed agency.”

“But it was when I took it!” Lelia all but shouted.

“True, but was the success of your quest filed before the
revoking of their license?”

Lelia opened her mouth to comment, and then realized to her
horror that he was correct. The moment the investigation started, their license
would have been pulled, which meant that even if she tracked down Deacon in his
dungeon cell and forced him to sign the contract, it wouldn’t count for
anything.

“Well, what about the reward for the Princess Sophia? Can I
at least get my 100 gold?”

The officer shook his head. “The contract was for the safe
return of the Princess.”

“Which I did, I returned her.” Lelia said, her arms crossed.

“To her family?”

Lelia felt her stomach knot up. “Well, the contract
specified that she be returned. Not that she necessarily be alive.”

“Even if that insane line of thinking applied here,” Captain
Wilkinson said, “Which it doesn’t, you can’t even return all of the princess.
All that we scrapped up as an arm and some gristle. On that note, here.”

The Captain handed Lelia a notice. Lelia took one look and
hit the roof. “You’re charging me with littering?!”

“She was your princess. You dumped her on the street. You
get to pay for her cleanup and disposal. Same rules apply for duels, Ma’am.”

“But we didn’t even duel!”

“You were about to. Still counts.”

Lelia felt every muscle in her body tighten at once. She
wanted to scream, to punch the captain in the face, to set fire to his office, or
a blissful combination of all three, but she couldn’t. She was a hero, a
knight, and as such, she had to show some restraint.

Even if she really didn’t want to.

Tired, dejected, and in need of a drink, Lelia found herself
at the Puttering Pony,[27] a local pub. It was just like any other pub in town, except that it had a pony
painted on its sign, and that bought some points with Lelia. She sat at the
bar, downed her dwarven ale, and muttered to herself about the unfairness of
the universe.

At this, Mama finished her bread, took a drink, and looked
around at the beautiful scenery.

“Well?” Abby asked, slightly frustrated.

“Oh,” Mama said. “You liked it?”

“Of course I liked it!” Abby said, excitedly. She was nearly
hopping in place. “No one’s ever told me about a girl hero before, but is that
it? I mean, did she ever get to the tower? What about her wish?”

“Well, I’m not quite there, yet. You see, it’s not just
Lelia’s story. There were two other heroes involved.”

“Were they girls?”

Mama smiled and nodded.

“Can you tell me their stories, too?”

“Help me clean up,” Mama said, “and I’ll tell you another
when we get back to the mill.”

And while the tales
of Lelia the Cunning did indeed continue, this particular story unfortunately
must come to an end. Word count limitations and all. Still, the rest of her
grand adventure, as well as those of her friends, are a tale best told another
day.

[1]
Please note, not all jinns are like this. While the common misconception is
that they will creatively murder you with your first wish, many will first
grant you a test wish that usually involves something small, like a sandwich or
a piece of gold. You’re much more likely to be utterly destroyed by the
horrifying, unseen consequences of the second wish, and the third will either
reverse everything you had done, or damn you to an eternity of ironic
punishment. In this case, the intentions of this particular jinn will, for now,
remain a mystery.

[2]
Only a licensed Hazardous Tour agency could provide an official stamp that
could certify a hero. There were some fly-by-night, unofficial Questing
Agencies that would claim their credentials were just as good, but many who
used these services reported that they cost a fortune, and no one in the real
world paid much attention to what was commonly viewed as a fake, purchased
license. The “heroes” that went this route often times ended up as servers at
local pubs who talked about going back to get their real certifications, right after they finished writing their novel,
designing an interactive board game, and opening their very own dream pub.

[3]
This is a common mistake, but we can forgive Lelia for this. Many young
adventurers will avoid paying up front in favor of going after treasure and
paying the Hazardous Tour Agency back later, but these types of quests often
times are more perilous and have a lower payout in terms of a potential
treasure. Also, the Hazardous Tour Agencies practically rob you blind on the bill-me-later
rate they charge. Since this is Lelia’s first use of a Hazardous Tour Agency,
we can write her choice off as a rookie mistake. For a better deal, she would
have fared well at Madame Tolacity’s House of Misfortune and Wicked Affairs,
especially if she had inquired about a certified quest on a Tuesday. Those are
Madame Tolacity’s half-off days.

[4] We
would like to apologize for this stereotypical portrayal of the common road
Troll. Many of these gentle giants are merely misunderstood bridge owners who
feel that their sovereign rights as citizens of the kingdom and as magical
creatures are being continually violated by smaller, hairless, overly-clothed
people that have no respect or understanding of the painstaking care Trolls
give to the underside of bridges. Their carpentry skills are unmatched, and
they can tar-seal a hole like you would not believe. To view them as mindless
attackers is not only inaccurate, it is borderline prejudice. The nudity
portrayed here is about right, though.

[5]
Lelia honestly wasn’t so much offended by someone commenting on the shape of
her body as she was bemused by the word “bosomy.”

[6]
Knights are viewed by many magical creatures as canned food that puts up a
fight.

[7]
This is a good rule to live by.

[8]
Fun fact: Trolls freaking love to own
quality dishes, and would kill any number of knights to have a complete dining
set. You would, too, if you ate most of your meals straight off of rotting deer
and knight carcasses in the woods.

[9]
Told you.

[10]
It made her feel bosomy.

[11]
Many a man as fallen prey to professional cleavage.

[12]
As a matter of principle, if you are in charge of a bandit gang, you are a
King, Baron, Emperor, High Priest, or any other important title you can think
of. This builds fear with the locals and helps generate a +1 on your respect
levels with your followers. It also distracts from your horrifying smell and
living conditions.

[13]
Bit of a selling point, really. Scurvy was so common in bandit camps, people
thought you were weird if your teeth weren’t
falling out.

[14]
Imagine if a Carl’s Jr caught fire.

[15]
Of course, of course.

[16]
The largest dragon on record was Halberd, the Doom Lord of Alacrazanth
Mountain. She was as tall as a 30-storey building and could breathe radioactive
fire (citation needed). Because of
her massive size, she would routinely feast in the nearby Iron Sea on tasty
whales, which she ate in the same way that a burly sailor munches sardines.

[17]
It would be wise to note that many dragons are quite regal, and that only a very young dragon would debase him or
herself to the level of doing tricks for food. Most know enough Humanese to ask
politely for their prey to stand still before they cook them alive. Also, while
raw meat is considered a nice treat, the reaction shown here should in no way
be taken as common for a dragon. This poor babe had been starved by its captors
and hadn’t eaten in a week, so really, Lelia could have tossed a rotted skunk
carcass and the dragon would have thought it was Christmas morning.

[18]
According to Better Castles & Keeps, the spinning wheel is the must-have
tower accessory. The runners-up included (but were not limited to) magic
mirrors, a four-post bed, shackles, a pottery wheel, riding crops, paddles,
candles, silk scarves, and a writing desk.

[19]
Honestly, you would fare better to go forth drunk and naked against a dragon,
or even a lesser-demon, than to challenge the fury of the Wonder Moose.

[20]
It’s true.

[21] This
was a known fact. Bandits always tended to be more susceptible to the whims of
a lovely young woman in a pretty dress. Maybe because they are so unused to
soft things that smell nice that their brains, long damaged by violence and
booze, are easily overloaded by beauty. Or maybe they just really, really like pretty girls. The debate
continues to this day.

[22]
It should be noted that while you may have some fantastic, neigh-mystical view
of what a ninja is, in the land of Westglen, they were not nearly as competent
as what other tales may have led you to believe. In fact, most were ordinary
bandits who had read too many pulp stories from the East and gotten the idea to
raid their mother’s bed sheets for suitable material to make ninja costumes.
Some, like our friends here, managed to learn a skill or two, and some even go
so far as to hire a ninja master from the Far East. These “masters” are usually
just masters of the con, but that is a matter for another story, entirely.

[23]
Demon Riders are a real problem. Don’t believe all the downplaying by the
media. They are single-minded menaces that will burn a town to the ground to
find a lost girl, a magic ring, or whatever happened to be put into their tiny,
hellfire-fueled heads. While not smart, they are relentless in their pursuits.
Most town watches have an emergency plan in place to deal with Demon Riders.
Unfortunately, it usually involves screaming and running.

[24]
This is not normal. If this happens to you, please see a specialist.

[25]
Saying “I’ve seen through the Eye of Perseus!” in the magical community is the
rough equivalent in your world, dear reader, to bragging that you have a
Communications degree.

[26]
Questing Certification Status. Often times confused with the Quiet Children of
Salaath, a fairly popular heavy-lute band. Check out their latest explicit
ballad, Masters of the Wand.

[27]
Ask the owner about the name of the bar sometime. The story will blow your
mind. No lie. There’s not enough space in these margins to tell it, but wow.
Wow.

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Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks,
Casey Glanders

CurlyRed:
I read this entire book in just under 4 hours I COULD NOT PUT IT DOWN! i found myself emotionally attached to the characters and making personal connections that i had never experienced before while reading a book! I was constantly wanting to read more, every chapter left me on a cliff hanger tha...

summerstone:
Seriously this is one of the best books I've ever read. The plot is intriguing, I love the narrative style. Its very descriptive and unique, with minimal cliches. It makes for a great read and the sequels are amazing. Totally worth reading. ^^ That's me trying to be professional. But in all hones...

Morgan-Leigh Nortje:
A storyline and plot not unlike something George R R Martin would have produced, only with far less tragedy. The stunning story of a young princess who goes into hiding and takes on an epic journey to save her father and her kingdom. With characters that you feel compelled to love and a plot that...

Lauren Suzmeyan-Raine:
I'm so glad you found a place to post your stories. I was horrified when I saw yours had been taken down, they are definitely the best 'reading' stories I've ever read. And I've made it my business to read every one I can. Well done.Lauren

Julia Summers PA:
Reading this now. It's fun, hilariously fabulous yet taste of what you desire in a unusual read. I will post an actual review when I am finished. But so far loving the flow and the story seems to keep me drawn

Nadine Willard:
I loved this story so much! I generally can't stand super girly romance stories, but this one was so relatable! I could not stop reading this, I read it straight through!! I wish this was a series, not just a single story 😊

JWalker:
I loved this story from start to finish! It flows at a really nice pace and the story world feels so real. The fight sequences are a treat especially when Isanfyre is training to become a warrior. I found the names really cool and thankfully easy to pronounce. Personally I have always struggled w...

Ruby0h:
Overall I thought your story was really good! It drew me in right away and kept me interested as the story progressed. I loved the character of Kayla being inserted into this story, and the way she affected and shaped the life of the original story into something totally new and interesting. I lo...

Nate_L:
This story is amazing. The style, the description, it all drags you in. The characters are mostly the well known characters from King Arthur. There's Merlin, the sword: Excalibur. I recommend reading this through, at least a little, as it's a very satisfying read. I added it to my reading list af...

John Reed:
Seadrias masterfully captures the impressiveness and complex scope that a science fiction novel should provide while carefully crafting an entire universe that will leave a reader in awe from start to finish. The only flaw I could find is that I wish I could have read more. This book is certainly...

Deleted User:
This is a very clever story in the style of 19th century (and turn of the century) Gothic writing, very reminiscent of Stevenson's The Body Snatchers or even of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (less so of Frankenstein itself, since the author is more minimalist than Shelley's florid, Romantic rhetoric). ...